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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456526">none of that bullshit love philosophy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalphard/pseuds/aalphard'>aalphard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>banana fish prompt fills [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Banana Fish (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Okumura Eiji Has a Sweet Tooth, Panic Attacks, Strangers to Friends to Lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:33:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalphard/pseuds/aalphard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <i>To fall for or to be fallen for.</i>
  </p>
  <p>Ash feels something unspeakably vulgar about those words, something farcical even. He doesn’t believe them, not really, because how could he? No matter how solemn the place where they put in an appearance, they crumble in melancholy, leaving nothing but an impression of fatuousness in their trail. It’s messy and uncomfortable and the thought of being fallen for brings uneasiness – so much that the mere mention of it makes Ash sick to his stomach.</p>
</blockquote>or: ash no longer believes in love and eiji proves him wrong.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>banana fish prompt fills [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Banana Fish</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>none of that bullshit love philosophy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi!</p><p>this fic had been sitting in my drafts for... honestly a long time. i just figured <i>what the hell, why is this still here?</i> and ta-da!! it is finally out to the world.</p><p>based on these prompts:</p><blockquote>
  <p>"all your friends have ditched you and this is your first time in a bar so i feel pretty bad for you, you can hang out here if you want"</p>
  <p>"you’ve been requesting really weird cocktails the whole night and every single time you start giggling"</p>
</blockquote><b>ALSO:</b> there is a brief description of a panic attack (as i said in the tags) as <b>i</b> sometimes experience them. if that makes you uncomfortable, please, don't force yourself to read through it and click away. your safety comes first!
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s a short, five-minute-walk from the subway station, into a creepy street full of closed shops and located right at the end of the dead-end alley. Yeah, it’s a horrible location. Yeah, most people tend to avoid coming here. Yeah, maybe it would’ve been better if they moved. It’s a small building with a tiny, weirdly shaped wooden door, but despite its looks, though, it has a cozy atmosphere, nice music, freshly brewed coffee and delicious pastries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that depressing corner of the world, there is a cozy café run by an elderly couple for the last few decades – but only during business hours. From nine to five, it’s the perfect place to grab a nice cup of coffee or maybe a hot chocolate if you’re craving something sweet. There are also bagels and cinnamon rolls and even cookies if you’re lucky. After a two-hour break, the place changes and you won’t find anything comfy about it. From seven to ridiculously late at night, sometimes up until five in the morning, it’s the perfect place for the broken-hearted and hopeless people to come to and drown their sorrows in bitter, burning alcohol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash had been working there for quite some time now and his favorite thing about the place is how different their customers are after such a short break. He’s pampered by the old ladies in the morning and usually gets homemade cookies and knitted beanies even though he’s told them he’s not a beanie kind of guy. At night, though, he puts his hair down and gets a few indecent proposals from the drunken regulars. Sometimes he goes home with random people’s underwear because apparently that’s something that happens at bars when people get wasted. Who would’ve known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears their stories and allows them to vent as he prepares their drinks. He listens to their complaints and helps them unwind, nodding and chuckling at the things they say as if they had been friends since forever – and they like him. They offer to buy him drinks and he politely declines, saying he’s working, he can’t drink. They offer to bring him home with them and ask him to mend their broken hearts and he has to laugh it off, saying it’d be unprofessional to do something like that. They complain, but Ash doesn’t budge. He’s had his fair share of sexual relationships that ended pretty badly and he’s in no rush to have his heart ripped out of his chest again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>People are stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>, is what he thinks every single night, watching these people desperately trying to mend their broken hearts with alcohol and meaningless sex. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Love isn’t real</span>
  </em>
  <span>, is what he thinks after being manipulated by so many people, after being hurt so many times. It’s all bullshit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time do you get off today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash fakes a smile as he continues to mix her drink, avoiding all kinds of eye contact. The girl is practically bent over the counter, blinking lazily at him with a smirk tugging her lips up. She’s not unattractive, not really, but Ash thinks she’s just not someone who’d catch his eye even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>, indeed, looking for someone to break his heart eventually. He shakes his head then, doing his best to not sound disinterested when she asks him if he wants to take her home for the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll close up today, so it’s better if you find someone else.” He answers, sliding her drink across the counter. She pouts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise I’ll make you see stars…” she winks. Ash nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not really looking for that kind of thing right now.” He mumbles out, crossing his arms in front of his chest and </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking at her. She furrows her brows, shaking her head. It’s like the thought of being rejected never even crossed her mind at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One thing Ash found out after he started working the double shifts is that sometimes he’d get drenched in fancy, sweet drinks whenever he declined someone’s sexual-toned offers. It did happen quite a lot, and sometimes he’d get home smelling like fifteen different cocktails and that was it. This one time, his hair smelled like Dances with Wenches for three days. The perks of working in a bar, apparently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This girl, though, picks up her glass and sticks out her tongue at him. “Jerk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also gets that a lot, mostly from girls but sometimes from guys, too. Usually it’s accompanied by something along the lines of </span>
  <em>
    <span>all you’ve got is a pretty face, that’s why you’re working in this shithole</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Fair enough, Ash thought at the time, it’s not like he could retort and defend himself when, in all fairness, his face was really all he had going for him. He had no savings, no family and the large sum of a single friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash was in no way someone people would actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get close to, anyway, so there was no point in trying to impress random people who came to drown their sorrows in his alcohol. He gave them their drinks and sometimes called them a cab. If he had to choose, the café was definitely his favorite place to work at. The bar stinks of alcohol and cheap perfume and vomit. The bathrooms smell nasty afterhours and he usually finds suspicious fluids glued to the doors. If he had to choose, he’d only work during business hours – but he desperately needs the money and it’s not like he has anything else to do after work, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The girl from before is shooting daggers at you, man…” the voice comes from behind him and Ash muffles a chuckle. “I wish I got this lucky from time to time…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you do, though.” Ash replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shorter sighs, shaking his head before nudging Ash with his foot. “You’re a heartbreaker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Takes one to know one,” Ash winks playfully before picking up a damp cloth to wipe the counter. “It’s crowded today, though. Cleaning is going to be hell…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about it.” Shorter rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I call dibs on the women’s bathroom,” he says. Shorter punches him on the shoulder. “I cleaned the men’s last time! It’s nasty in there, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shorter shakes his head before walking over to a group of three good-looking guys, his voice lower than what it usually is. Ash shakes his head – it’s stupid to try to impress people who won’t even remember who you are when morning comes, but Shorter does it anyway. He’s outgoing and friendly and overall everything Ash wishes he could be, when he comes off as kind of odd and weirdly against sexual advances. He does tease, though, and that’s probably why people get upset when he doesn’t respond to their advances. Maybe that’s why he smells like at least eight different drinks on a daily basis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s washing his mixer when the door opens again and a black-haired boy walks into the bar. For a second, Ash thinks he wouldn’t mind if that guy hit on him because, well, a guy has his preferences, but the thought vanishes when he gets closer and Ash sees his bloodshot, puffy eyes. Poor guy, he thinks before he can stop himself. It’s what alcohol is here for, right? Drink your worries away. This guy looks like he needs it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, what can I get for you?” He asks as soon as the guy sits in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs. “I was ditched by my friends,” he says, finally. Ash nods, still waiting for his order. “I want a Screwdriver, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash nods again before the guy starts giggling like a kid, shaking his head. He doesn’t smell like alcohol, so at first Ash doesn’t really understand why he’s laughing. He steals at glance at Shorter, on the other side of the counter, who’s still laughing along with the tiny crowd that has formed around him now. Shorter can have the drunkards, Ash doesn’t mind. He always worked best with the elderly people who come in the morning, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want the drink, not an actual screwdriver.” He explains, still giggling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Ash snorts. “I got that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seems oddly uncomfortable, looking around as if it’s the first time in his life he’s been to a place like that. He eyes the people behind him and the crowd gathered around Shorter, widening his eyes when he sees his purple hair standing up. Ash muffles a chuckle, shaking his head. He’s lost count of how many people have had that exact same reaction when they first came in here. When he looks back at Ash, he smiles weirdly as if he’s trying to look like he’s used to this kind of environment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First time in a bar?” Ash asks him before getting started on his drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy widens his eyes again and then falls against the counter, his head making a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump</span>
  </em>
  <span> when it hits the wood. Ash chuckles, pouring vodka and juice into his mixer. The guy doesn’t get up until Ash puts a glass in front of him, smiling encouragingly when he looks up at him with furrowed brows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can hang out here if you’d like,” he says, washing the mixer now. “But I bet it’s way more fun over there.” Ash points at where Shorter is standing at. “He likes to deal with people and he does it better than I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re great,” he blurts out. Ash widens his eyes, mouth hanging open for a few seconds before a smile breaks through. “Oh, wait, I mean…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Ash says back, nodding at him. “Enjoy your drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except he doesn’t touch the drink. He looks at it for a few seconds and turns away to look at the crowd again. He widens his eyes when he looks the other way and sees some people quite literally eating each other’s faces, looking back to the counter in half a second. Ash frowns, tilting his head to the side. Maybe that wasn’t the drink he wanted? Or maybe he just thought Ash had fucked up while making it and was now refusing to drink it? Whatever it was, it made him uneasy. People never complained about his drinks – sometimes they threw them on him, but that was because he was being a jerk, as they said, it had nothing to do with their taste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens his mouth to ask him what’s wrong with the drink when the guy looks up at him again and smiles. “Can you make me a,” he giggles. “… a Bees Knees?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash frowns again, but nods anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he’s making the fourth cocktail, the guy tells Ash his name. He probably doesn’t mean to, because his eyes widen as soon as he says it and his cheeks blush furiously. It’s kind of cute, Ash thinks, the way he doesn’t fit with the bar’s atmosphere. He’s looking at the crowd when he starts talking about himself, not really registering the words leaving his mouth. Ash learns that he’s from Japan and his family came to New York because of his dad’s work when he was a kid. Ash learns that his name is Eiji and that he doesn’t really drink coffee, but likes it overly sweetened and that he’s a big fan of poetry. Ash learns that he doesn’t have many friends and that he doesn’t really drink – but he’s here now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Long day?” Ash asks him with a soft smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Eiji sighs, shaking his head before giggling again. “Hey. Can you get me a Paralyzer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still giggling and Ash finds himself chuckling along as he grabs the bottles and pours liqueur and vodka into the mixer. This guy has been through some shit if he’s planning to drink all of that in one sitting – and for the first time ever since he started working here, Ash is actually curious about this guy’s life story. He’s looking at Shorter again with lazy eyes and starts to wonder if he’s not actually interested in him – it wouldn’t surprise him. Everybody liked Shorter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the Paralyzer, Eiji ordered a Bobby Burns, a Three Wise Men, a Duck Fart and a Moonwalk. He doesn’t drink any of the previous drinks and he starts arranging them in a straight line as soon as Ash puts the last cup down. He’s humming softly to himself and Ash only hears it because they’re so close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you actually drink what you ordered or will you just throw away your money?” He asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji looks up at him with a sad smile on his face. His eyes are still puffy and he looks like a lost kid who’s trying to find his way back home. And then he giggles softly, looking up at Ash with puppy-like eyes, blinking fast and cutely as if he’s trying to make Ash give in to something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you get me a Fuzzy Navel?” Eiji asks with another giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clicks his tongue and shakes his head before grabbing the bottles he needs. He mumbles something about </span>
  <em>
    <span>how ridiculous it is when people waste their money like this</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he worked double shifts to be able to pay for his living expenses, but Eiji didn’t seem to care. He was still staring lovingly at the weirdly colored rainbow his drinks made, neatly placed in a straight line in front of him. His eyes gleamed with sadness and despair and Ash would be lying if he said he didn’t know what that felt like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your story?” Eiji asks him all of a sudden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just a bartender.” Ash replies before putting another glass in front of him. “What’s yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji nods. “I’m a college student,” he says, picking up one of the glasses and taking a sip. He frowns before chuckling lightly, not looking at Ash in the eye. “I’m in the Photography Department. I had a boyfriend up until earlier today. Apparently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes another sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash usually isn’t one to engage in conversation with the drunks at the counter, but he knows what it’s like to have that desperate glow in his eyes, that sadness that makes him hunch over and avoid eye contact. It hurts too much and he knows it all too well. So he talks back, and when Eiji looks at him, he smiles sweetly at the boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apparently?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He never made it official, I guess…” he chuckles, taking a sip from the Screwdriver. He doesn’t frown this time. “I was completely whipped from the start and he just kind of. He never talked about me, never introduced me to his friends and whatnot. And I found out he was seeing some other people and that was the last straw, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it still hurts…” Eiji goes on. “My friends bailed out on me as well, so I guess I’ll drink for all of them while I’m at it. Maybe I’ll drown out this emptiness I’m feeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll end up in the hospital, that’s what will happen if you drink all of that in one sitting.” Ash comments as Eiji downs another glass. He finished three of them already. “Why didn’t your friends come with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They had this big project to work on,” he shrugs. “Maybe I’ll have someone take me home tonight. That’s what people come here for, right? To drown out their senses and pick up random strangers to have meaningless sex? Maybe I’ll start doing that, too. Maybe then I won’t have my heart broken so many times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji starts telling him, then, that he’s had three boyfriends and all of his relationships ended in a similar way. He tells Ash all about his exes, the way they treated him like something so, so precious, only to throw him out when someone prettier showed up. He tells Ash about how differently they treated him in front of their friends and family, as if they’d never had anything to do with him in the first place. He tells Ash about the way he spent weeks locked inside his bedroom after his first breakup, crying his eyes out and wondering why he couldn’t be enough. He tells Ash he doesn’t want anything to do with love anymore because people are jerks and only care about themselves. He drinks five of the eight drinks he ordered. He tells Ash he wants another one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll end up dead if I get you another.” Ash comments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll let you take me home if you get me another Fuzzy Navel, though,” he winks. Ash chuckles, shaking his head. “You can do whatever you want with me as well, I won’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I will</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ash wants to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s wrecked already: his eyes are still puffy and Ash can see tears pooling up in them. His lips quiver and he sighs ridiculously loud, looking away from his drinks, from the crowd and from Ash. His eyes wander towards that one specific dark spot on the other side of the bar, where there are a few couples doing things Ash probably wouldn’t have wanted to see, but does anyway. It’s only when Ash looks back at him that Eiji lifts his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have nice eyes.” He says, already picking up his sixth drink. “You also have a nice face and a nice body. I bet your hair is soft as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you?” Ash chuckles, crouching down a bit to look Eiji in the eyes. “You’re not so bad yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am, though.” He whines, downing the Moonwalk in a second. “They’ve all told me that they could do better than me, anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your exes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were jerks!” Eiji yells excitedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were.” Ash agrees, smiling at him. “I bet you were too good for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was,” he shrugs, already sipping his Paralyzer. “I could be good for you, too. Will you let me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash clicks his tongue, a smile still plastered on his face. Eiji’s not looking at him anymore, staring down at his drink in a haze – and he wonders if he’d have asked just about anyone to take him home and fuck him senseless just so that he could forget the pain in his chest. He doesn’t like the way his stomach churns at the thought. It’s when dark eyes meet his that Ash feels his heart beating slightly faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate,” he chuckles, looking down at his drink again. “I don’t even know if you swing that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t answer, but nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was stupid.” Eiji sighs. “But the offer still stands if you do, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll remember that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji finishes his drinks in silence and doesn’t ask for more. When he’s done, he gives Ash a tiny nod as he puts money on the counter and walks towards the front door. He halts for a couple of seconds before opening the door. Ash doesn’t know why, but his chest hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t sleep well that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shorter told him to go home, that he’d deal with the remaining customers and that he’d close up for the night. Ash had gone home and tucked himself in with a cup of peppermint tea hoping it’d make it easier for him to fall asleep – the sleeping pills hadn’t been working recently and when he did manage to sleep, he’d usually wake up with his heart in his throat, a choked scream stuck in his chest and cold sweat dripping from his forehead. Nightmares were the only thing he could always count on – nightmares, the elderly people and Shorter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, honey?” A sweet old lady speaks up to him from behind her teacup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s fine,” he shoots her his sweetest smile back, nodding lightly. “I couldn’t sleep very well last night, s’all. Can I get you anything else today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could make use of some of those adorable cupcakes right there,” she giggles at him. “But only if you allow me to treat you to one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, he smiles – really smiles. He nods before sliding her order to the other side of the counter, where Max excitedly chats with a frail old man. Scolding him with a low </span>
  <em>
    <span>get to work, you asshat</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ash gets a snicker in response, rolling his eyes dramatically before being handed a frosted cupcake with rainbow sprinkles all around. It’s not a bad routine, he thinks as he takes his first bite, sweetness flooding his senses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only when lunchtime arrives that Ash starts to think about the guy from last night. It’s not uncommon for him to think about the weird, drunk customers from the bar – they always stick around for a few days and Max loves hearing about them. He doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t really want to tell him about this one guy in particular. Ash feels his heart hurt when Max asks him, in-between bites of his lunch, what kind of people approached him last night. He talks about the girl who called him a jerk and the few couples who made out next to the bathrooms – but he chooses to keep quiet about Eiji and how he drank more than what was probably safe to or how he made a move on him and Ash didn’t really mind for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does, however, mention a certain heartbroken person who couldn’t help but drink too much. Max nods, still staring at his food. Ash dares to look at him as he talks about how red and puffy his eyes looked, how utterly and hopelessly wrecked he was as he downed eight drinks in a row and was still asking for more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some people fall in love really easily,” Max comments, finally looking at Ash. “And then they get their hearts broken and think it’s their fault. It’s no one’s fault. Humans are jackasses by nature.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash feels something unspeakably vulgar about those words, something farcical even. He doesn’t believe them, not really, because how could he? No matter how solemn the place where they put in an appearance, they crumble in melancholy, leaving nothing but an impression of fatuousness in their trail. It’s messy and uncomfortable and the thought of being fallen for brings uneasiness – so much that the mere mention of it makes Ash sick to his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But people still fall in love.” He comments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max looks at him with a puzzled expression on his face. “If you can go through the hard parts of it,” he sighs. “Love can be quite rewarding as well, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I wouldn’t.” Ash jokes with a half-hearted smile. Max sighs again, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re too young to have given up on love already, kid…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t give up on love,” Ash answers back. “I think it’s love that has given up on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max doesn’t say anything back, but shoots Ash an apologetic smile before getting up and walking back inside the café. He faintly remembers what it was like, loving someone – it started off as warm smiles and gentle touches, sweet kisses and nice words. He faintly remembers what it’s like to open up to someone only to have it turned against you again and again. Loving someone meant he’d deliberately open up his heart to let someone inside only so they could mess him up some more after they were done playing with him. Love is bullshit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he gets back inside, hair already tied back in its usual ponytail and lilac apron covering the front of his body, he smells that delicious mix of freshly baked cookies and coffee that has now become his favorite smell in the world. He always tells himself he’ll ask the elderly couple for their recipes but never actually does – it’s not like he’d actually be able to pull it off when he can’t even make instant ramen taste good, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tiny bell on top of the door chirms nicely as someone opens the door and Ash is already preparing his sweetest smile as he speaks up “Good afternoon! Can I take your… huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look different,” is the first thing the guy says to him, a coy smile plastered on his face and Ash notices he’s looking everywhere as if he’s trying not to look at him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cute.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I thought I’d come around and apologize for last night but as soon as I walked in it just looked so different I wasn’t sure I got the right place at all. But you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it’s like two workplaces in one? That’s cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look different with your hair tied back.” He mumbles out, still not looking at Ash. “The apron suits you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If any of the customers noticed how shamelessly Ash had been staring at the guy, none of them said anything out loud. He hears Max snickering from the other side of the counter as he chats with the same old guy from before – and he can’t even bring himself to care because now he’s looking at Ash with a faint blush spreading across his cheeks and he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Maybe he didn’t notice it last night because of the poor lighting of the place or maybe because he had clear signs that he’d been crying and Ash didn’t really care about it at the time. But now? Now he had his hair neatly combed and a button-up white shirt tucked in neatly under black pants and Ash would be lying if he said the sight didn’t make his heart do a back flip in his chest. Which is stupid, he thinks. He’s just a guy who happened to drink too much and Ash is just a guy who happened to be a bartender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I take your order?” Ash manages to choke out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji widens his eyes in surprise. “I don’t really drink coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have other options.” Ash smiles, fully aware of the burning sensation creeping on his cheeks. “But you did drink coffee liqueur last night, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was…” he gulps. “That was different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Ash chuckles, already grabbing a cup. “Can I get you our Deluxe Hot Chocolate, then? I’ll make sure to put in extra whipped cream for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Ash winks at him, already starting to walk towards the machine. “It’s on the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max whistles at him as soon as he walks past him and gets an elbow right in his stomach as an answer. The old guy teases him for it, saying he shouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>mess with the youths</span>
  </em>
  <span> and that it’ll get him a few black eyes. Ash nods and chuckles at the old guy, telling him that tomorrow his coffee will be on the house for sticking up to him – and while he cheers, still teasing Max, Ash steals a few glances at Eiji, who’s now sat comfortably in a chair close to the counter, staring at the bathrooms with a confused expression on his face. Ash can’t bring himself to blame him – he felt exactly the same when he first started working here, wondering how this place could change so much in the matter of a couple of hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you were seeing someone.” Max whispers at him as Ash finishes up Eiji’s drink, making sure to sneak in a bit of chocolate sprinkles on top of the whipped cream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s obvious you are,” he retorts, steadying himself on the counter as he waves his eyebrows at Ash. “What about that whole ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>love is bullshit’</span>
  </em>
  <span> discourse you had earlier? I thought you wouldn’t go around looking for someone to share your bed anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about the nice-looking guy who’s obviously stealing glances at you while you work, then?” Max teases, poking Ash’s sides. At his widened eyes, Max snorts. “What haven’t you been telling me? Does Shorter know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does Shorter have anything to do with it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you like best buddies or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Ash snorts, nodding as he finishes up the drink. “I suppose we are. But still. Even if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> seeing someone, which is most definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the case, I don’t see why Shorter would have to know anything about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash frowns. “What about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t I deserve to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pretends to think, eyeing Eiji from behind Max, still looking around with his mouth hanging open, fidgeting with his fingers. When Ash looks back at Max, he smiles. “No, I don’t think so” he says before walking past him and towards the tiny table Eiji chose to sit at. Had he been around for a second longer, he would’ve heard the muffled </span>
  <em>
    <span>that little fucker</span>
  </em>
  <span> Max shot at him before walking towards the register.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here’s your double Deluxe Hot Chocolate with extra whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles,” he announces as he sets the drink on top of the table. Eiji widens his eyes, looking at Ash in disbelief. “A special service for you only.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t accept that.” He chuckles, shaking his head nervously. “Especially not after I made a fool out of myself last night and made you uncomfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t,” Ash winks. “I was just surprised, s’all. I’ve gotten worse, trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji still doesn’t budge. “At least let me pay for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Won’t you get in trouble?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash snorts, a faux pondering look spreading through his features as a smug smirk tugs his lips up. He crouches down just enough so that their eyes are on the same level and then winks. Eiji’s cheeks blush furiously and he looks down to his fidgety fingers, mouth unsure of whether to stay open or closed, and Ash would’ve laughed if Max wasn’t shooting daggers at him from behind the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t tell if you won’t.” He whispers to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji gulps down before nodding, still refusing to look at Ash. “Thanks for the drink, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be behind the counter if you need anything else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walks back before Eiji can even muster up an answer and sticks his tongue out at Max when he whistles again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop being a kid</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he tells him, but Max doesn’t stop bothering him until a group of three middle-aged women come up to the counter. Ash allows himself to fall back on the sink, looking at the oh-so-adorable guy who decided he’d come here to apologize for his behavior when, really, Ash has had much worse. There was that one time a guy tried to pull him towards the bathroom to do whatever he wanted to him – and he was so tired he would’ve let him if Shorter hadn’t intervened. He also remembers the time this really weird girl snuck inside the bar and before he knew what was going on, she was already pulling his pants down to, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>relieve his stress</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as people would say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji takes a cautious sip of his drink as if Ash could’ve probably poured alcohol in it just for fun, and Ash almost giggles when his eyes widen and his cheeks suddenly turn a shade darker. He closes his eyes for a second and a soft smile tugs his lips up as he gulps it down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s too cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ash thinks. As Eiji takes another sip, staring out the window, Ash feels his heart coiling around his chest, jumping up and down and in every direction and it hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure if the sludge in the pit of his stomach is brought by the uneasiness of being caught in its mischievous hands or if he just needs to rest. When Eiji looks at him, lifting up the half-empty cup, Ash gulps down the knot in his throat. He won’t budge – he refuses to be swept off his feet again. He wants none of that bullshit love philosophy, anyway. He refuses to let him in like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of him wishes he’d welcome him, though. A part of him wishes to see that sweet, sweet smile first thing in the morning and rest his chin on the crook of his neck. Eiji probably smells like old books and cinnamon and somewhere deep inside, Ash wants to know if that’s true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he won’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants none of that – that’s a fact. Love is bullshit. He doesn’t need it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>To love is to be vulnerable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you love anything, Ash has come to know, your heart will be wrung, thrown in every direction, and then it’ll break. People are selfish and love isn’t real – people never love what you are, but what you might be able to offer them. If it was a good thing, Ash has come to know, he wouldn’t be dealing with so many brokenhearted people every night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to get laid,” is what Shorter told him as soon as he walked in. “It doesn’t have to be with someone you love, you just need to get some action going on. You’re cranky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m always cranky.” Ash answers as he wipes the cookie crumbs from the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My point exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what business do you have with my dick, exactly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shorter shoots him a disgusted look before he disappears into the staff room to get changed. Ash muffles a chuckle before throwing the damp cloth in the cramped sink. He hasn’t seen Eiji in a few weeks and it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. After that day, he’s been to the café for eight consecutive days, always making sure to tip him generously. He was right – Eiji really did smell like old books and cinnamon, but also something else and Ash couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. He tells himself the only reason he’s thinking so much about him is because he really wants to know what that other thing is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To love is to be vulnerable and Ash doesn’t want to know what that’s like anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He decides, then, that he’ll force himself to stop thinking about those puppy-like eyes and the way his hair falls graciously over them. He decides, then, that he’ll no longer think about the faint blush in his cheeks whenever their eyes met and that he’ll forget all about the way his voice carried suggestiveness and innocence all mixed up as if he knew exactly what it would do to him. He doesn’t want any of that love bullshit anymore – except he might’ve wanted to know what Eiji’s lips tasted like, how his hair would feel under his touch, how beautifully wrecked he would look after Ash finally gave in to his first request and did anything he wanted to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I could be good for you, too</span>
  </em>
  <span> was what he said. Ash hasn’t forgotten, he couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the bell chimes announcing someone has walked into the bar, Ash is confused for a second. He’s sure he has the </span>
  <em>
    <span>closed</span>
  </em>
  <span> tag pinned to the glass. He lifts up his head and his heart stops – actually stops – for a few seconds. His throat is dry and his tongue feels too big for his mouth because </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he didn’t remember how good he looked with his shirt slightly buttoned down and his hair messy like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not open yet.” Ash manages to choke it out, his voice strained and weird and he wants to punch himself when Eiji shoots him an amused smile, nodding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.” He answers, simply. “I saw the tag outside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t get you any alcohol now,” Ash goes on. His heart hurts and he doesn’t like it. It makes him remember things he’d much rather forget. “We’re still cleaning the place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see that. I didn’t come for the alcohol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash swears his vision went blurry and his heart is no longer functioning. His lungs scream in agony because somewhere along the line he stopped breathing and didn’t even notice. Eiji looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Ash honestly thinks he wouldn’t mind if he decided to drag him to the bathroom right now. He’d do anything Eiji wants him to – he wants to hold him and be held by him all at once and the mere thought of it makes all the blood in his body rush south. He wonders what kind of sounds Eiji makes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I actually came here for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash gulps, but doesn’t dare to say anything back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I’d pay you back for that fancy drink,” he goes on, chuckling. Ash’s stomach flips like a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>pancake</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “But then I thought I was being kind of pushy when I literally tried to get in your pants when you were just doing your job and my head became this huge mess. I thought I could come back here and just, you know, drink for a bit and talk to you about these things but then I found out I know nothing about you or this place at all. Hell, I don’t even know your name and I literally told you everything there is to know about me and tried to hit on you </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> you gave me a free drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Ash.” He chokes out again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji giggles, nodding. “Nice to meet you, Ash.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji sits by the counter and watches as Ash walks around not really knowing what to do. Shorter comes out of the staff room and halts for a few seconds, shooting Ash a questioning look before introducing himself as the best bartender in the place, to which Eiji replies with a low chuckle and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>but I thought I had met him already, though?</span>
  </em>
  <span> that certainly sends Ash’s heart flying out of his mouth. Shorter widens his eyes and looks from Eiji to Ash, from Ash to Eiji with a huge question mark on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash pretends he didn’t hear anything and starts bringing out the vodka bottles from the cabinet. Shorter starts talking to Eiji about lots of things – and Ash knows it all. He already knows Eiji’s family came here from Japan and he knows he’s single because last night he came here and got wasted, presumably to not think about his broken heart. He knows he likes sweet drinks because he asked for two Fuzzy Navels and he drank all of the Deluxe Hot Chocolate with extra whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I get you a drink?” Shorter asks him with a smile. “It’s on the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t keep getting free drinks.” Eiji shakes his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shorter looks at him with his mouth hanging open, furrowed brows and all, and Ash feels like his soul is definitely leaving his body. He could die right this second and he wouldn’t even care because</span>
  <em>
    <span> holy fuck of all the fucks</span>
  </em>
  <span>, this couldn’t be happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell you what,” Shorter leans on the counter, smiling wickedly at Eiji. “If you manage to make this guy get out of this place for one fucking day, I’ll get you three free drinks and you can even keep this wild beast if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji widens his eyes and mimics Shorter’s grin. “You mean it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash clears his throat, suddenly feeling panic flowing freely through his bloodstream. Shorter looks at him and then at Eiji – and then at him again. He sticks his tongue out at him and Ash swears he’s going to kill him. When Shorter nods, Ash feels like he’s about to faint – his vision is blurry and the whole bar is spinning. He needs a shot or maybe three or four. When he locks eyes with Eiji, he blinks once and then twice, mouth hanging open without really knowing what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you say?” Eiji smiles at him, tilting his head to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash wants to scream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I buy you a drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash almost screams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t answer – his voice doesn’t come out. His hands are shaking and he hides them behind the counter, blinking at Eiji with widened eyes. Shorter sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air as if he’s never seen something as harrowing as what’s in front of him. Eiji is still smiling at him, waiting for his answer, not giving any signs of ever giving up. Ash doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what he wants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Love is bullshit, he tells himself. And he doesn’t want anything to do with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But how could he, when Eiji is right there and he looks so ethereally beautiful with those adorable eyes and cute smile? How could he, when he’s sitting right there in front of him, asking him out in the most adorable way possible? How could he, when he hadn’t been able to think about anything else other than </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eiji, Eiji, Eiji</span>
  </em>
  <span> ever since he’d made a fool out of himself by drinking so many weird cocktails? He doesn’t want to admit it, but the signs are there. They’ve always been there and he had been lying to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To love is to be vulnerable and Ash doesn’t want that anymore. He’s had his fair share of pain and he’s not so keen on the thought of having to go through any of that again and again. He’s been used and abused and blinded by this horrible feeling people seem to enjoy so much. He wants to tell Eiji he won’t ever fall in love with him, but how could he? He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> it’s way too late for that – he’s already fallen for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hurts and Ash is </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> close to bursting into tears or into flames. He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> close to throwing up because everything is spinning and he doesn’t know what to do to make this stop. He can’t breathe and panic floods him once again – he widens his eyes and looks around for Shorter in a silent plea. His throat is closing in and he can no longer see nor breathe and it feels like he’s dying. But he can still hear Shorter calling his name, asking him what he can do for him. Ash can’t talk – the knot in his throat and the burn in his lungs don’t let him. He shakes his head. Shorter asks him if he wants to be held. Ash shakes his head. He asks him what he needs and, as much as he doesn’t want to, his body betrays him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks in Eiji’s direction and a sob comes out of his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s already too far gone when Shorter asks him if he wants Eiji to give him a hug. He feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>pathetic</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he nods, sobs breaking free from his throat and tears flowing freely through his cheeks. He feels warmth wrapping around him and the smell of old books, cinnamon and cheap soap and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he finally knows what that smell was, but after a few seconds it’s suddenly too much. He breaks free from him, shaking as he puts his arms in front of him to avoid contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shorter asks him if he wants anything. He looks at the sink, still not trusting his own words. The world is hazy and he swears he’s about to die. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He hates it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got you some water,” Eiji speaks softly, not getting close to him, holding out the glass as if it burns his skin. “It’s alright. You’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash doesn’t have the strength to move, but he does it anyway. His muscles burn and he allows Shorter to touch him just enough so that he can have a few gulps of cold water. It stings as it goes down his body and he fights the urge to spit it out as soon as it touches his tongue. He thinks that they’re even now, him and Eiji, because both of them have made fools of themselves in front of the other. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He fell – and he fell hard. He doesn’t want it anymore, this pain in his chest, the knowledge that everything will go up in flames eventually because that’s just how it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes him a while to be able to breathe again. His vision is still blurry as Shorter helps him get back on his feet, asking if he needs anything else. Ash meekly shakes his head, sighing in discomfort when he gets up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should take today off,” is what Shorter tells him. “I’ll take care of the bar today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s tempted to say he can still work, but agrees when Shorter touches his shoulder with a bit more strength than necessary. He nods, finally, and walks slowly towards the staff room to get changed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is so embarrassing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. Not only did he stumble over his words, he had to show him the worst possible side of him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His chest swoons with echoes of the crumbled pieces of his heart, swimming in the purest form of melancholy. It always crumbles down, no matter the shape it takes, it’ll always crumble down. Love is pain. In fact, love is bullshit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then why is it that when he opens the door and the cold, nightly breeze hits him and Eiji smiles at him from the other side of the street, he feels such warmth? It feels surreal. He can’t even muster up the strength to bring himself to smile back. He nods softly, putting his hands in his pockets and starting his walk back home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you following me?” Ash asks him in a cold tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shorter asked me to help you get home safely,” he explains with a chuckle. “I won’t try anything funny, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t ask that, though.” Ash replies in the same tone. When Eiji doesn’t answer, he goes on: “You can go do something else. Have a few drinks, I don’t know. I can get home just fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, not happening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash doesn’t have the strength to talk back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk in silence; Ash hears him humming something softly from behind him, but aside from that, they’re completely silent. The nights in New York are usually loud and filled with parties and people all around, but right now it feels as if they’re in their own little world, just the two of them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Ash feels his heart racing, a loud and rhythmic thump in his eardrums. Love sucks. It’s not real. Or at least it wasn’t supposed to be – but what else would explain this mess he’s feeling inside?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts to think that maybe he should’ve asked Shorter for a drink before he went home because then it’d be easier for him to be around Eiji. He’s painfully aware of his presence, following right behind him, still humming a song Ash doesn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m close to my house now,” he says. “You can go”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re trying to get rid of me,” Eiji points out. “That’s not going to work. I said I’d take you home and that I’d make sure you got home safely. I already told you I’ll leave as soon as you walk through your door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash frowns as he turns around – it’s so sudden Eiji almost bumps into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s nauseating, the awareness of being in love. It’s hard to breathe and all of a sudden Ash is so painfully aware of his every little move, the way his lashes curl at the very end and how his eyes sparkle with joy whenever Ash looks at him or does so much as call his name. It’s nauseating and it hurts so much Ash thinks he’s going to die if he gets closer. Eiji’s staring at him with a puzzled expression, head slightly tilted to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks ethereally beautiful in that dimly-lit, poor corner of the world and Ash can only think that he doesn’t fit in with this kind of scenario. Eiji told him he was in the Photography Department and it only makes sense that he’d be this pretty, he thinks. It only makes sense that they won’t ever be able to create a composition as beautiful as the one Eiji deserves. Ash is broken and dark and cloudy – meanwhile, Eiji is peace and warmth and everything he has ever wanted. But they don’t fit well together and </span>
  <em>
    <span>this is precisely why Ash thinks love is bullshit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> precisely why he thinks there’s no way someone as damaged as him would ever be able to stand in a pretty scenario like the one Eiji carries around with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never wanted to fall for him, never wanted to let these feelings bloom and make their way into his heart, but it happened and it hurts – way more than Ash remembered. The pain is excruciating and he doesn’t want to feel it anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you so keen on being around?” he asks, his voice rough and rude. Eiji flinches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I like your company.” Eiji shrugs with a sad smile. “I’ll only see you home. I can stop going to the café or the bar if you don’t want me there. I just thought it’d be nice since, well, you’ve seen me at my worst and wasn’t at all disgusted by what I said and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I ever be disgusted…” Ash whispers, voice so low he’s hoping Eiji doesn’t hear him. He doesn’t say the rest out loud, though – </span>
  <em>
    <span>if I’ve had worse, if I’ve been defiled this many times, if I’ve humiliated myself to the point where I can no longer hope for anything good.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He hopes Eiji didn’t hear him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, he reaches towards Ash’s shoulder and holds him for a mere second. He’s warm and soft and Ash feels like crying when he looks at him again. Eiji has a soft smile on his face, his eyes gleaming in an apologetic manner, head still tilted to the side as if he’s a lost puppy Ash happened to stumble across. He doesn’t deserve him, is what Ash thinks, because there’s absolutely no way someone as filthy as he is could ever deserve someone as pure as him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to leave?” Eiji asks in a whisper, his eyes scanning Ash’s face for any sign of discomfort. He lets his hand fall down when Ash scrunches his eyes shut. “Or do you want me to stay with you for a little longer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll let you take me home.” Ash answers slowly, still not looking at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji sighs in relief, nodding even though he knows Ash can’t see him. “Okay,” he says. “Will you open your eyes or do you want me to guide you home? I can hold your hand and pull you along.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Ash doesn’t answer, Eiji mutters a </span>
  <em>
    <span>just kidding</span>
  </em>
  <span> loud enough for him to hear – but when he looks down, he sees Ash’s arm stretched out, his hand open as if it’s waiting for something. He can’t help his chuckle, taking Ash’s hand in his and feeling his warmth. It’s kind of sweaty and sticky, but Eiji doesn’t mind. He holds it a bit tighter than necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on,” he breathes out, opening his eyes. Eiji starts to let go of him just as Ash tightens his grip. “I didn’t say you could let go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji chuckles, nodding. “Okay,” he says. “Show me the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ash could’ve kissed him, is what Max tells him a few days after that. Ash could’ve let him in and kissed him and invited him to a sleepover. Ash could’ve asked him to stay and share his bed, to wake up next to him every morning and never, ever leave. Ash could’ve punched Max in the face as soon as he started talking about that, but he didn’t. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re a pain in the ass</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what he told him as Max chuckled and teased him by saying that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe you could ask lover boy to be the actual pain in your ass tonight, though</span>
  </em>
  <span> before walking away from him and towards the other side of the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji had been coming in every single day and asking for a variety of sugary drinks, always slipping in a generous tip whenever Ash was on the register. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t have to do that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he always tells him as Eiji shrugs and sticks his tongue out at him before waddling towards that specific spot he seems to love so much. He also comes every night and watches the weird, drunken customers shamelessly hitting on Ash as he sips his weirdly-named cocktails and pretends he’s not laughing at his reactions.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The thought of it still scares him to death, if he’s being honest – but there’s something about the way his heart flips over and the way that ridiculously funny feeling climbs up his spine that makes Ash think it’s not all that bad. It never felt like this before or, rather, he’s never wanted to see someone as much as he wants to see Eiji, to hear his voice and take his hand in his. Sometimes Ash thinks he’s going crazy and Shorter tells him to suck it up and ask him out while Max tells him to take it easy and think things through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Love is bullshit – that’s a fact. But it doesn’t sound all that bad when Ash thinks about the possibilities with Eiji. To see him first thing in the morning with bedhead and puffy eyes, to watch as he gets dressed every morning and to see him right before he falls asleep. To go to amusement parks and get wasted together. To go out to fancy restaurants and walk around hand-in-hand. To have him underneath his body and to have him on top of him. To have him in every possible way. It doesn’t sound bad at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never got to pay you back for that time.” Eiji mumbles, already a little tipsy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve tipped me enough to make up for that, though.” Ash reasons as he shoots him an amused smile. “And you’re coming here all the time now. Should I take that as a compliment? Do you really want to see me this much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji giggles before nodding, slamming his glass onto the counter. “I do,” he mumbles. “Because you’re very pretty. I don’t think you’re aware of how pretty you are, you know? All these people here…” he hiccups and looks at Ash through half-lidded, heavy eyes. “They all want to take you home tonight. But you never allow them to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to tell him why. He wants to take him by the hand towards the staff room and lock the door and break it down in tiny little pieces for him to put back together, explaining just </span>
  <em>
    <span>why the hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> he doesn’t feel safe letting anyone else in – anyone that doesn’t have those adorable puppy-like eyes and that breathtaking smile. He wants to tell him that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind if Eiji asked to take him home tonight or whenever else he wanted to. He wants to tell him his heart is beating absurdly fast and he can’t even hear his own thoughts when he’s around him. He wants to tell him he doesn’t like the way his chest feels tight whenever Eiji walks through the door, waving goodbye with that soft smile on his face. He wants to tell him he doesn’t like the idea of someone else putting their hands on him but that, at the same time, he doesn’t feel like he deserves to feel like that. He wants to tell him he doesn’t have the right to taint him with his filthy hands after everything he’s been through. He wants to tell him he doesn’t know how to name what he’s feeling – but the thought of saying all of that paralyzes him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he doesn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only when Eiji looks away from him that Ash feels his muscles relaxing again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t know when it started, this whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>staring at Eiji when he’s absentmindedly looking somewhere else</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing – probably ever since he walked into the bar and started ordering funny drinks when his eyes were puffy and red from crying. Or maybe it started the next day, when he so awkwardly approached Ash and tried to apologize. Or maybe it wasn’t, maybe it was when he tried holding him as he felt his lungs screaming in pain, when the agony of feeling death surrounding him was too much and </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span> his warmth hitting him like an open fire. Maybe it was when Eiji decided to walk him home without expecting anything in return. He waved goodbye with a soft smile on his face and Ash had stood on his doorstep, fingernails digging into his palms as the words he never managed to get out swirled around his tongue – </span>
  <em>
    <span>would you like to come in?</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he would’ve liked to have said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can make us a cup of coffee.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you take me home tonight?” Eiji asks him, still looking elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like me to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When tipsy, half-lidded eyes roll back to him, Ash feels his throat closing in. He looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrecked</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and the smile he shoots him afterwards carries a kind of suggestiveness Ash is sure he’s never seen before. He was right when he thought, a few days prior, that Eiji would be the death of him. Ash holds his breath when Eiji smiles, biting his bottom lip tentatively and then… then he bursts into laughter, shaking his head as he looks up at Ash with a huge question mark plastered onto his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, what was the question again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you drunk already?” He asks, thanking the heavens for the fact that, because of the poor lighting in the bar and the alcohol in his system, Eiji won’t notice the blush spreading across his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was never good with alcohol.” Eiji hums.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s common knowledge</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ash wants to say – but he doesn’t. He just chuckles when Eiji looks up at him again and hands him his empty glass. He nods, but doesn’t prepare him another drink. Instead, he pours him some water and tries to keep a serious face when Eiji asks him this drink’s name so he can order it some other time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s fun to be around him and he doesn’t feel like he needs to put up an act. It feels safe to talk to him about anything that comes to mind because he knows Eiji’s mind works in a similar way to his own. Ash thinks that, had he not been tainted so many times by greedy, filthy hands, he would’ve tried to make it work with him. Had he not been thrown out so many times by people who had promised him the world, he would’ve tried to believe they could make something beautiful. He knows they could never – it doesn’t suit him, he thinks. And, besides, Eiji deserves better than broken merchandise, doesn’t he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Eiji suddenly speaks up in a loud tone. “I remembered! Will you take me home tonight, Mr. Heartbreaker?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash snorts, shaking his head. “Where did that nickname come from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard some girls talking about you near the bathrooms and that’s what they called you.” Eiji shrugs, a playful smile on his face. “Is that your thing? Breaking hearts and then soothing the pain with alcohol? That’s a pretty smart move if you ask me…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, leaning on the counter as if he’s about to tell Eiji a secret. “Thing is…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Ash can almost see Eiji gulping, eyes wide and attentive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have absolutely no interest in having affairs with customers.” He says, finally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji sighs, dropping his weight on the counter. He looks almost disappointed as he looks up at Ash with a pout, shaking his head. Ash chuckles as he starts off on another drink for a guy that has been shamelessly staring at him for the last twenty minutes, winking every time Ash does so much as look in his direction. He’s not bad-looking, not really, but he’s nothing like the one person Ash would’ve liked to have had his circumstances been different – so he pays him no mind as he delivers the guy’s drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pretends he doesn’t notice the way he slides a piece of paper when Ash puts his drink down and pretends he doesn’t feel his fingers caressing the skin on his wrist. It’s always like this, he thinks. They always touch and stare and hope that’ll be enough for him to fall head over heels for someone he doesn’t even know. It’s a futile attempt to get in his pants – he knows that and it shouldn’t have bothered him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It does bother him a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s preposterous to think he’d ever get someone as pure-looking as Eiji, isn’t it? It’s preposterous to think someone so ethereally beautiful would ever want to be around someone as filthy as him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe if his circumstances had been different.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That guy was awfully touchy, wasn’t he?” Eiji is glaring at the man’s direction when Ash approaches him again. He’s frowning and there’s a lingering pout on his face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Had our circumstances been different</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that bother you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He meant it as a joke, really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when Eiji looks up at him again, his eyes clouded with something Ash has never seen directed towards him, not even once, he feels a shiver running up his spine. When he finally nods, it’s like his soul has just left his body and all of a sudden he can’t breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it make you upset if I said it does?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash is hyper-aware of his surroundings and of the way his heart tries to escape through his throat. He’s staring at Eiji with wide eyes, mouth parted open and a huge question mark above his head because </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, it doesn’t bother him one bit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he never expected him to answer so truthfully like that. He expected a chuckle or a nod or even a drunken hiccup, but not a full sentence, not something that would make his heart go berserk. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To fall or to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span> – he never stood a chance, did he? It was preposterous of him to think he wouldn’t be swept off his feet by this adorable, oblivious, incredible person sitting right in front of him, eyeing with hazy, half-lidded eyes as he sips his water slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes to the guy sitting on the other side of the counter and clicks his tongue. “I could go over there and tell him you’re with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he died and this is the afterlife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe this is a dream and soon his alarm will go off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he’s hallucinating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Eiji shrugs, putting his glass down. “Just so he stops bothering you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth is dry and the knot stuck inside his throat makes breathing difficult. Eiji’s shooting daggers at the guy, his hands balled into fists, his knuckles white. He would’ve thought it was cute had he not been literally frozen by pure shock. Sure, it would’ve been nice to have a break from the constant nagging and alcohol-breath way too close to his face. Sure. But there’s something about the way Eiji clenches his fists and clicks his tongue, about the way he narrows his eyes and furrows his brows, about the way he looks so </span>
  <em>
    <span>utterly pissed</span>
  </em>
  <span> that makes Ash think he doesn’t deserve him, that he’s been tricking him into thinking he was ever a good person. The thought leaves a bitter aftertaste at the back of his tongue and Ash can’t seem to get rid of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine.” Ash manages to choke out eventually. “I’m used to it by now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji doesn’t look at him as he murmurs, “You shouldn’t have to become used to this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pretends his heart doesn’t flip around when Eiji looks at him again, eyes apologetic and gleaming with something Ash doesn’t quite recognize. He pretends his stomach didn’t coil and that his tummy wasn’t flooded with cold excitement. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this and the thought makes his heart beat even faster, to the point where he no longer remembers how to breathe normally.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for or to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s like he never really had a choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine.” Ash shrugs, feeling a smile breaking his lips apart. “You’re here to protect me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has to hold in a chuckle when Eiji widens his eyes and his mouth hangs open involuntarily because </span>
  <em>
    <span>come on. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eiji looks shocked and thrilled at the same time, his eyes gleaming with something Ash doesn’t really recognize, his hands no longer balled into fists but resting comfortably on the counter, slightly closer than before and Ash finds out he doesn’t really mind the proximity, not when Eiji grabs his shirt so that he doesn’t  move from that spot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shorter can go take his order</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what he says and Ash can only chuckle in response because </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah, he can go do that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you have no interest in your customers.” Eiji mumbles as he plays with his empty glass. “Does that mean me as well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash is dying right this second and it’s all Eiji’s fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I can see why you wouldn’t be interested!” He quickly adds, his hands in the air, his eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ash wants to say. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You big, big idiot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words get stuck in his throat, under that prickly, painful lump that has been Ash’s companion ever since he first met this weird, clumsy, adorable Japanese guy for the first time, pitifully heartbroken, drowning his sorrows in weirdly-named cocktails. His whole body shivers when Eiji looks at him in the eye, his mouth involuntarily hangs open because </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, he’s pretty</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he still doesn’t manage to talk. His voice won’t come out and his tongue refuses to obey him when he’s staring at him like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to scream, wants to tell him he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> interested in him – perhaps even more than he should have been, but why would he do that in the first place? He doesn’t deserve him, does he? He’s just someone Eiji will end up forgetting one day. He won’t remember the weird cocktails or how he took Ash home without expecting anything in return. He won’t remember how Ash made him giggle at the café or how he always made him extra drinks or slipped in a cookie sometimes. Ash is just someone he happened to pass by during his life and that’s all he’ll ever be, or so his brain tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji is too pure, too immaculate for him to taint with his filthy hands, is what his brain tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to take his hand and make him giggle. He wants to touch his hair and his face and see his cheeks blushing. He wants to touch his neck just to see if he’s ticklish. He wants to hug him because he didn’t get to do that even though he was being hugged that one time. He wants to see if his lips are as soft as they look – but he’s not the one who gets to do that, is he? He doesn’t have the right to touch him like that. He’s just a stranger Eiji happened to stumble across and that’s all he’ll ever be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not really interesting, am I?” Eiji sighs, his head dropping, voice wrecked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true.” Ash manages to choke out. “I’d say you’re a very interesting person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But not interesting enough to get your attention.” He mumbles, still looking down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this is the exact moment Ash feels his heart imploding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Don’t get him wrong, he’s happy – but it’s suddenly too much. His brain screams at him that </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, you can’t do that</span>
  </em>
  <span> because deep down he thinks he doesn’t deserve him. Deep down he thinks it’ll end like the other times and he’ll be left all alone after being ripped apart, after giving just about everything he has because that’s all love has ever offered him; because to fall for someone means you’ll be in your most vulnerable state and you’ll allow them to get inside you and do anything they want with you and Ash knows it all too much. He knows all there is after they get bored of playing with you is pain in its most absolute form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He only knows pain brought by people who told him they loved him over and over again and </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s not worth it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his brain tells him, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>look at all those people who come here to drown their broken hearts</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Love is streaming tears, snot falling over your lips and pain, pain, pain and there’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> good thing that makes it worth it, is what he thinks. He doesn’t want to do anything to do with it anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span>, looking at the man in front of him who’s now too embarrassed to look him in the eyes because </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah, that was pretty embarrassing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Except he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> because he wants him to envelop him in his arms again (and next time he won’t run away from him). Except he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> because he likes his voice and he likes how simple life is when he’s around. There’s not a single worry, not a single ounce of pain and Ash has never felt this warm before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want that bullshit love philosophy – he wants </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eiji</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Love is an illusion and illusions are, by definition, mismatches between physical reality and perception. As something created by crafted emotions that never seem to linger for longer than necessary, love has no external physical reality and, thus, it doesn’t exist. Or so he thought – because nothing explains the way his chest swoons with euphoria, with everything he’s come to associate so intrinsically with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eiji</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so fast and hard he’s left gasping for air, unable to focus on anything that isn’t the quirky, cute man sat right in front of him with his flushed cheeks and wide, dark eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Love should be an illusion, should be something he was never allowed to taste. But he does and it tastes like overly sweetened coffee and liquor. It tastes like old books and cinnamon. It tastes like cheap soap and cologne. It tastes like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eiji</span>
  </em>
  <span> even if he’s not sure what he tastes like yet. He was wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He once told Max that love had given up on him. He once told Max that love wasn’t worth it. Now it’d be his turn to tell him he was wrong. Now it’d be his turn to laugh at his naivety and tell him he was scared. He was scared of getting hurt, he was scared of allowing someone to get inside and mess him up. He was scared of allowing someone to hold him so dearly, so tenderly only to toss him aside when he got boring. He was wrong and he was scared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Love should be an illusion, but it’s not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not an illusion, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> it be, when Eiji looks as beautiful as the moon glowing brightly on the night sky, as beautiful as the stars twinkling peacefully on a dark, infinite sheet. It’s not an illusion and Ash wants to punch himself for ever thinking it was because hell is freezing when he comes to think that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wouldn’t mind being ruined by you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you still want me to take you home tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t remember when was the last time he slept so well. His blinds are closed but soft, warm morning light still manages to make its way inside. Ash stifles a yawn as he pushes himself to a sitting position, staring at his room still half-awake as he reaches up to scratch at the back of his head with a groan before stretching his arms in front of him, rolling his neck as if he’s trying to work the stiffness out of his body. And his muscles complain, protesting with every little movement he dares to make. It burns a little bit, he notes, and it’s not all that bad. It’s kind of ticklish and he has to blink a few times before he finally situates himself and his brain registers that </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, he is awake, thank you very much.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash swings his legs over the edge of the bed, shivering when his feet touch the cold floor. Or maybe it was because his muscles burned. Or maybe none of those. It’s a good kind of burn, he thinks, for it’s too weak to actually be an inconvenience to his daily life. If anything, it just repaints in front of his eyes the memories of how he got it in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t drink, but Eiji did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji couldn’t walk properly as they left the bar, so Ash let him hold onto his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shorter had called him over as Eiji was struggling with his wallet and discreetly gave him a condom. Ash had rolled his eyes, slapping his hand away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not like that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d said, and Shorter had only grinned at him before saying that </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course it isn’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And it wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji was a talkative drunk – he already knew that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He talked about his school life and about when he came out to his family. He talked about his friends and how they didn’t really check up on him anymore ever since the breakup thing happened. He talked about how he thought Ash’s hair was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen – and then shook his head and said </span>
  <em>
    <span>I lied</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because obviously the prettiest things he’d ever seen would have to be his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash blushed for the first time in a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard helping Eiji walk and even harder to make him walk up the stairs. While he spent a good two minutes wheezing trying to catch his breath, Eiji giggled and took stumbling steps towards what was most definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> his apartment door.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t my house</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s mine. You wouldn’t tell me your address.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Will you let me spend the night here, then?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash thought to himself that maybe his heart would stop before morning came because there was absolutely no way he could take it. Eiji had his cheeks flushed in an alcohol-induced frenzy and kept smiling up at him as if he was the most precious sight in the whole world. Yep. Definitely not making it through the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like he’d blinked and all of a sudden they were both tangled under Ash’s sheets, Eiji softly resting his head on his chest as he blabbered on and on about something Ash wasn’t really sure he understood. His voice was warm and his body was even warmer against his and if it wasn’t for his nails digging into his palms, Ash would’ve cried. How long had it been since someone got so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so close</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and talked? How long had it been since he’d felt someone’s warmth so innocently? How long had it been since he allowed someone to touch him so intimately like that, without even expecting something else? He really did want to cry, but Eiji wouldn’t let him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice filled the room over and over while Ash bit on his bottom lip to keep the tears inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they slept.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found out Eiji snored a bit when he was drunk. He also talked in his sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He talked about Ash. A lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash knows he shouldn’t be surprised to find the space next to him empty when he wakes up. It’s morning already, Eiji’s drunken haze must’ve faded during the night and he might’ve freaked out and left. He must’ve thought it was insane to be sharing a bed with him, must’ve thought Ash brought him to his house to have his way with him as he probably did with so many people before him. Or something along those lines. Probably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t be surprised. And yet he is. Or maybe the surprise is a cover-up for the tight grip on his heart. It shouldn’t be there, but it is. Maybe the surprise is nothing but a reflection of his own foolishness.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for or to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubs tiredly at his eyes, stifling a yawn as he finally gathers enough strength to get up. He desperately needs a cup of coffee and something to eat and then he’ll hop into the shower, brush his teeth and head to the café, apologizing to Max and the elderly folks over and over again because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I drank a bit too much yesterday</span>
  </em>
  <span> or something like that. Or maybe he could call in sick and tell Max everything took a turn for the worst, that he knew he shouldn’t have let anyone under his skin ever again, that allowing himself to fall for someone would only make him crumble down in melancholy, the graveyard inside of his chest way too full of bad memories already, he didn’t need new ones. Or he could just sleep it off, pretending he doesn’t have to work, pretending he doesn’t even exist. But his stomach growls and he decides he can pretend he doesn’t exist when he’s had some food first and then–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes lock on something in the corner, right by the door. It’s dark and shiny, certainly not something he would’ve kept in his apartment, certainly not the kind of thing he’d ever wear. And when he turns around, he sees a piece of fabric he knows all too well, a piece of fabric he’d thrown on top of his drawer himself, a piece of fabric that’s certainly not his own. It’s soft and warm, almost burgundy under the soft morning light. It’s something that had once made pale skin glow, something that had once made his throat feel so very, very dry as he asked for permission to take it out before they dived into the bed, surrounding themselves with warm blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash gets up almost immediately, the haziness behind his eyes suddenly coming back. He takes a few stumbling steps forward, one and then two, and then three and then four. He’s moving in a trance through his bedroom, his hands shaking before they reach the doorknob, his throat rubbed raw from the lumpy knot that settled in without even asking for permission, his heart one step away from bursting into flames.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes another step and then another and then a third. His eyes are desperately searching for something, for someone that shouldn’t be there anymore, someone who should’ve ran away as soon as dawn broke, as soon as his tired, hungover eyes finally realized that this wasn’t his house, this wasn’t his bedroom, as soon as his brain suddenly comprehended that maybe trusting Ash to take him home hadn’t been the best idea his drunken brain had come up with because, well, this wasn’t his house. He searches for someone he’s sure he won’t find, not anymore. And yet Ash can’t help but hope, that tiny portion of his heart that has </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eiji</span>
  </em>
  <span> scribbled all across the tissue brimming with excitement as he finally managed to gulp down the bothering lump and </span>
  <em>
    <span>ah.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He finds Eiji in the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His back is turned to him as he moves around while humming softly to himself in a language Ash doesn’t know. He’s barefoot, his hair nothing but a tousled mess, his head swaying along with the words he whispers to a sizzling pan on top of the stove, the smell of coffee surrounding him at once and Ash can’t do anything but stop and stare at the scene in front of his eyes. He rubs them once and then twice and then a third and fourth time just because there’s no way this is real, there’s no way he’s still here, no way he decided to stay even after waking up next to him because </span>
  <em>
    <span>this isn’t what he was supposed to do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or</span>
  <em>
    <span> to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>, huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash laughs – he doesn’t mean to, but he laughs because how could he possibly swallow it down when the sight before him made him think that this was nothing more than a dream? How could he, when his first instinct was to rub his eyes just to see if he was, in fact, awake? How could he, when the very first thing Eiji thought about after he woke up wasn’t putting on his coat and shoes and leaving because, well, this was supposedly a stranger’s house, but making breakfast for him while humming a song Ash had never heard before? How could he, when Eiji jumps, turning around wide-eyed, mouth hanging open as an apologetic look spreads across his features and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, he looks amazing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t know if you would’ve wanted me to leave as soon as I woke up so I figured I’d make you breakfast to make up for the whole drunk talk and, well, it must’ve been hard to carry me here. You could’ve brought me to my own house as well, I don’t see why not, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t tell me your address.” Ash answers a lot quicker than he would’ve liked to, his hands still shaking as he hides them behind his back like a child who’s about to be scolded. “I asked lots of times while I was dragging you out of the bar. You said you couldn’t tell me because your heart wasn’t ready, so I brought you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji’s cheeks blush a shade of red Ash has never seen before as he nods softly. “I see,” he says back. “That must’ve been quite a hassle, I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” is what Ash replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning.” Eiji says again with an amused smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji is beautiful in the morning light, Ash finds out. Not that he doesn’t look beautiful at every other time, it’s just that seeing him so early makes it a different kind of beautiful, somehow. He’s got the puffy eyes and pink lips and the most adorably squishy face he’s ever seen before. He’s wearing an apron Ash never knew he had, looking away from him as uncertainty starts to spread across his eyes, across his features and Ash is so taken aback by the sight he even forgets to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They haven’t done anything other than sleep tightly wrapped around each other’s arms, feeling each other’s heartbeats and probably thinking that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this is definitely going to be awkward in the morning</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and it was. They haven’t done anything and yet heat floods their cheeks, tainting them a pretty shade of red, making them look away in embarrassment almost simultaneously and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, there’s something burning. Eiji yelps before picking up the forgotten spatula by the sink, desperately trying to save whatever it is that is now slowly being reduced to a sticky, unidentifiable black pile on the pan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash isn’t a romantic, he doesn’t want the heavens or the galaxies or even the smallest of the shooting stars. He doesn’t want gemstones, he doesn’t want silver and he doesn’t want gold. He wants none of that silly, theatrical reaction; he doesn’t want rushed touches or hungry hands. Staring at Eiji’s back as he desperately tries to save their breakfast, he giggles because, well, how could he not? He doesn’t want riches or any kind of smoothness. He wants the steady hands that wrap around him when the world comes crashing down on top of his head, he wants the kindness of a light touch when he yelps, when he cries and pushes everything away because it’s suddenly too much. He wants to fall asleep wrapped up in warmth and wake up comfortably snuggled up against it because he knows his heart is safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He told Max love had given up on him. It hadn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He told Shorter he didn’t want anything to do with love. He did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash wants to love and to be loved in return. He wants the soft, cautious touches, the warm glances and low whispers. He wants the safety of being cared for, the fondness of waking up to someone bringing you breakfast (even if it’s a little burnt). He wants the shy glances of the person who’s wearing an apron he probably got as a joke, the apron that suits him as if it was always meant for him. Eiji is still looking around trying to figure out what to do with the ruined pan and whatever it is that the black mass is supposed to be and Ash feels his heart clenching painfully inside his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was once something vulgar, farcical, crumbling up in melancholy as it left a mess behind for him to clean up all on his own, picking up the shattered pieces of his heart after fatuousness finally fled. It was once something that brought uneasiness, the kind of thing that made him sick to his stomach at the mere thought of having someone waiting for him to wake up, someone who would hold him tenderly at night and bring him breakfast in the morning. Or, well… at least try to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a terrible cook.” Ash says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji frowns. “I’m hungover,” he tries to defend himself. “You can’t blame me for trying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You owe me a new pan, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being with other people seems to bring a little bit of pain. Trying to mend relationships, putting in effort to find solutions to keep pushing through, to glue the tiny pieces of a broken heart over and over again until there’s nothing but glue inside your chest, until the shards melt into this hybrid you no longer recognize. Ash knows this all too well. Ash knows what it’s like to wake up one day and no longer know who you are, no longer understands anything that’s not the burn inside your chest, the tight grip on your throat, the endless cycle of yearning for something you’re not even sure existed in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll buy you fifty.” Eiji answers almost immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need that many.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’ll buy you one pan and forty-nine dinners.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that you asking me out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji smiles a soft, coy smile before asking, “Would it make you upset if I say yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash pretends his heart didn’t fly out of his body through his mouth, pretends his knees didn’t turn into jelly, that his head isn’t suddenly immersed in water, that he suddenly lost his hearing because it’s dead silent. He’s not even sure his eyes work anymore from how foggy it is, Eiji being a mere shadow in front of him. He opens his mouth and closes it again, his lungs suddenly thrashing around and screaming in agony because apparently he also forgot how one was supposed to breathe. His hands are shaking and he considers the possibility that he’s still asleep, that this whole thing is a dream and that he’ll wake up in a few minutes and watch his empty bedroom, Eiji’s smell lingering on his pillows and the emptiness back inside his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ash?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” He yells. “I mean, no! </span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it wouldn’t bother me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’d very much like forty-nine dinner dates with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only forty-nine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ash almost faints. “As many as you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like the sound of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eiji smiles a wide, childish smile now. His eyes are tiny when he smiles, almost closing by themselves, his nose scrunching up a bit and Ash doesn’t think he’s ever seen something this pretty before. His chest hurts in all the good ways and he’s sure he’ll die before the day is over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I burnt your pan,” he says. “But I did make coffee. I’m not, you know, an amazing barista like you or anything and I’m still hungover but I do know how to make delicious, simple black coffee. It’s very good for hangovers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs a sweet laugh, nodding. “We’ll see about that. You managed to burn my pan, who knows what else you were up to while I was still asleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a klutz, I’ll have you know, I just have a really bad alcohol tolerance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure you do…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe Eiji spent the rest of the morning trying to prove to him that he actually knew how to make breakfast without burning another pan. Maybe he really did make an amazing coffee, but Ash wouldn’t tell him that, not today at least. Maybe he did call Max to tell him he couldn’t make it to work today because he wasn’t feeling well, getting a </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t forget protection!</span>
  </em>
  <span> in response. Maybe they had the most delicious pancakes in the whole world for breakfast after Eiji almost burnt another pan in his sleepy haze. And maybe Ash didn’t mind it all that much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he found out what Eiji tasted like, sweet coffee and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eiji</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because there’s no other way he could describe it. Maybe he found out his hair was even softer in the morning, maybe he found out he really liked it when Ash played with his hair. Maybe they kissed once and then twice and maybe a thousand times, none of them was counting. Maybe Ash was dragged into his bed or maybe Eiji was, but they somehow ended up wrapped tightly against each other under warm blankets, the morning light now being stubborn and slipping inside without an invitation, burning their eyes as if yelling at them to get out of bed at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe they didn’t. Maybe they slept throughout the whole day or maybe they spent hours lazily kissing each other, lazily tracing their fingers all around each other, wherever they could reach, tasting whatever they could taste – or maybe not. Maybe this was all a dream, Ash thought when he saw Eiji fall asleep safely tucked between his arms, and if it was he’d never want to wake up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he cried, maybe he didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To fall for </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>to be fallen for</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ash thinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t look that scary anymore.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>you're free to come yell at/with me on <a href="https://www.twitter.com/aaIphard">twitter</a> (´꒳`)</p><p>you can interact with the graphics <a href="https://twitter.com/aaIphard/status/1361189305494962176">here</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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